


Killua x Reader: Good Girls Get Rewards

by leiler



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Choking, F/M, Face Slapping, Hickies, Rough Killua, Slapping, Spanking, restriction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:02:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26079187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiler/pseuds/leiler
Summary: “Do you know why you’re here?”You remained silent.You had been wearing a skirt, but you felt as rough hands pulled the fabric away. You were exposed.“Answer me.”You still didn’t speak.His arm went up and shot down behind you with such force that you were sure you were red--on both ends.A small squeal escaped you, but other than this, you were quiet.“You’re here because you’ve been a bad girl.”
Relationships: Killua Zoldyck & Reader, Killua Zoldyck/Reader
Comments: 13
Kudos: 113





	Killua x Reader: Good Girls Get Rewards

“I like you,” he said. It was open and earnest--something you didn’t see from him very often. 

You stood before him in bewilderment and disbelief. Oh, how you had craved those words, how you had yearned to hear them fall from his lips. Unbeknownst to him, you knew you desired him--and you had chosen to ignore it. You coveted him, you cared for him. 

And yet, those were the _last_ words you would have _ever_ expected to hear from your fellow Hunter. 

~~~~

You had been out on a mission together for the past 5 months. The Hunter Association was frugal; your arrangements weren’t ideal, but you dealt with it. You had taken a break from work a few years ago and had missed the rush of missions; this was your chance to feel it again. 

Your task was simple: collect information on a terrorist group that resided in the Mimbo Republic. According to the Association, there had been multiple attacks by the group on the government--methods ranging from explosives to hand-held machinery to cyber-attacks. You were to integrate first with the natives, and eventually with the terrorists themselves--though the latter would be a much more extensive process. 

In the first few months, you had assimilated by creating social networks with those in the area of the small house you had been provided. It started through introductions, which led to gatherings, and eventually, you had adopted their customs and mannerisms. The locals were kind people who quickly accepted you as one of their own--which only made it easier for you to milk information from them. 

Funny people, they were--the locals, that is. Upon your arrival, you were asked by many about your stay and the nature of your relationship with Killua. For the purposes of the assignment, you were a married couple. This was in name only, of course, but they ate it right up, congratulating you on your success. 

You played the role, holding hands and occasionally kissing in public, but you knew it was fake. You knew it was all a rouse to become more trustworthy. To put yourself above suspicion. 

But you never thought you would develop real feelings for Killua. 

~~~~

You should've seen it coming, really. A man, a woman. Same room, same bed, and countless hours of interaction between sleeping, eating, and working. He was your age, attractive, and powerful. At some point, the line between fabricated and genuine affection had blurred. 

There was just one problem: you could never act on your emotions.

Something about Killua seemed so innocent, so delicate. You could not ignore his tainted past, but beyond the sum of his experiences, Killua was beautiful. He was a white rose in a sea of greenery. He seemed guarded, but beneath an icy exterior laid a starry-eyed child who clung to the need for love and affection. He was naive; artless. He had been hurt, but somewhere beyond the hurt--beyond the pain and the grief--there was a Killua that was truly untouched. 

And you would not be the one to stain him. 

Besides, beyond your “selflessness,” there was the mission to think of. And Killua showed few signs of reciprocating such affections. Therefore, submitting to such desires would prove fruitless. 

At least you had thought so.

Until recently.

~~~~

“You… _what_?!”

“I... like you.”

“Killua, no one’s around, y’know. You don’t have to keep pretending.” You studied him carefully, avoiding his gaze. He looked… serious. No, he _was_ serious. He was speaking from the child beneath the adult. 

“I’m not joking, I really do like you.” He looked far too sincere for comfort. Furthermore, he seemed saddened by your reaction. You didn’t want to tell him no--you really did like him. But could you say yes? What would he think when he found out-

“You don’t have to say yes,” he deadpanned. As quickly as the child had made his appearance, he had vanished. The spark of irrationality had died. 

Now it was back to normal Killua. All work and no fun. Come to think of it, Killua seemed to only express emotion in his “child” form. So you would have to deal with an apathetic Killua once again. 

The problem is, you still didn’t know what to say. As much as you _should_ reject him for the sake of his health, you wanted him. A lot. 

If Killua got emotionally involved with you, it would and badly. You couldn’t handle the affection and you’d probably end up breaking his heart. Maybe you already were. 

It’s fucked up, but you and emotions just don’t mix. You love your family and that’s it. Romance was never your thing, and it never will be. You might fuck someone, but you would never “make love”. Because making love was far too intimate for your taste. 

So he could never be right for you, emotionally. Because Killua wanted love. 

Physically, though… 

Physically, you longed for him. For his touch. This was how you wanted him--sex with no strings attached. But could he ever truly be that for you? Would it break his heart just as much if you only accepted him for his body and not his soul?

Was it worth a try?

Was _honesty_ worth a try?

Maybe. 

~~~~   
  
“I like you, Killua, but I don’t want a relationship.”    
  
To anyone else, it would look like Killua didn’t care--like he remained truly indifferent at your response. But you knew Killua well; you had spent hundreds of hours at his side. It was the little things that gave it away:

Killua was utterly taken aback. 

“Why not?” 

His voice, like his appearance, held distortions that only you caught. It really, really hurt to hear him like that. 

“We should never have anything other than a physical relationship. Emotions complicate things.”

The voice inside you wanted to cry, to scream out. You wanted Killua emotionally as well, but you could never give to him what he asked of you. 

You could never truly love him. 

It was better this way. Just sex. It was better. 

You were horrible--in ways that he would never understand. Sick and twisted. You would destroy him. 

“Can’t you try?”

God, it was breaking you. He looked so sad, so lightless. He might seem impassive but you knew. You _knew_ this was hurting him as much as it hurt you. Maybe more. 

“No.”

Your voice cracked. 

As did your heart.

“Fine.”

And he looked away. Moisture pricked your eyes but you ignored it--for it was obedient; it wouldn’t fall. 

~~~~

It had been a few weeks since then. The mission proceeded as normal, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed between the two of you. He was colder. 

He would still kiss you or hold your hand for the sake of the task at hand, but those actions, too, became callous in nature. 

You knew that his confession--and your subsequent rejection--were the source of the growing distance between you. There wasn’t much you could do much about it, but that wouldn’t stop you from drowning yourself in worry and trying to think of solutions. 

At this rate, you would get lonely--and fast. You were alone together in a foreign country and as nice as the locals were, they could never replace the delicate friendships you had built with friends back home. 

So, something had to change.

But how?

~~~~

You decided to discuss the issue with him after dinner. It was a cold Saturday evening, and you didn’t have any particular plans for the next day. 

He was sitting in the living room, on a small couch, doing something or other on his phone. You sat across from him on a small, soft sofa chair. He looked up from the device in his hand. 

“We need to talk.”

“About what?” His tone remained nonchalant. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t.”

Bullshit. He knew _exactly_ what you were talking about. 

“Cut the shit, Killua. You can’t keep this up forever.”

His face changed. It was small, but you caught it. _Now_ you had done it.

“Keep what up, huh?”

You were about to respond when you felt a string of nen wrap around your neck. You had left yourself unguarded because it was Killua. Apparently, that was a mistake. All that left you was a small grunt. 

“You think I haven’t noticed. You think I’m dumb. Must fucking suck, because I did. You don’t want someone to be nice to you or treat you right. You want someone to be _mean_.”

You felt yourself heating up beneath his gaze. You both knew he was right. And the lack of sexual touch from being stuck in this shithole country with no friends and the impossibility of lovers due to your “marriage” wasn’t helping. 

“They told me about you, you know,” he paused, as if internally debating whether or not it would be appropriate to disclose whatever information would come next. He seemed to deem it acceptable, as he continued. “They told me all about how you can’t get emotionally attached. How you go around fucking strangers. How you tell them to be rough with you. I didn’t know they meant it until a few weeks ago.”

So he knew. 

He stood up from his perch, walking over to you. 

As you tried to move, you came to realize that it was not only your neck that was restricted. 

Panic began to set in. He seemed to have built his anger as he spoke, his tone transitioning from one of indifference to rage. 

And you couldn’t move.

He stood above you now, and grabbed you by the neck.

“Is this what you want?”

You nodded slowly in his grip. He threw your face away in a fit of anger. He seemed… torn. 

The nen at your neck returned as his hand left, but more softly now. 

“Killua… I-”

“Shut up.”

You obliged. 

He turned his face away, and as it reappeared, you saw what had changed in his eyes. They were dark--dark in a way that you had only ever seen in battle. He had relinquished all things lethal when the mission started--they were to only be used again when in battle, and the battles would only happen when the terrorist infiltration began. Which it hadn’t. 

He seemed to hold a shadow, beneath his knitted brows and surrounding his figure. Even his nen seemed darker. 

He leaned forward over you, bringing his face to yours. 

“I’m not gonna kiss you. I _know_ that isn’t what you want.”

A spear of nen moved straight down your chest, slicing away the fabric that stood between the two of you; he stopped before your underwear, though did not spare your bra. 

He moved his head to your collarbone, brushing away the remaining shreds of cloth. A hot tongue sucked down right at the line where your clothes would normally cut off. 

The mark he left was placed intentionally; he knew you would constantly wonder if it was covered or not. He was claiming you. 

He moved down your chest, leaving those same primal markings behind as he moved. He was an artist, and you were his canvas; he painted you blue, purple, and red.

He was uncharacteristically rough with you, but you knew that somewhere, he was holding back. Some part of him could never really hurt you. Maybe that was why you started liking him. 

You didn’t fight him as he moved. At least not until he spoke. 

He lost the rage again, only for a moment. 

“Are you… sure-”

You knew the question he was going to ask. It was sobering. You hated that. 

“Killua, stop fucking talking-”

And again, the storm in his eyes unpaused. Your sentence was cut off by him, a sharp stinging sensation engulfing your cheek. He had slapped you. 

Good.

You were happy until his nen receded. As did he.

“Get dressed for bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And then he left you there, aroused and shocked. He had slapped you and then… left? 

You considered his request, and then complied. But by the time you got to your bedroom, he was fast asleep. 

~~~~

It had been a strange day. He had spent it all ordering you around--even with simple tasks, such as “tie your shoes” or “finish your food”. You weren’t quite sure what to make of it 

You had disobeyed him twice. 

The first, he had asked you to clean the dishes. Who does he think you are? A maid? Ridiculous. 

You had told him exactly that. Much to your dismay, he didn’t react. He didn’t really get mad. He said one thing: Strike One. 

You didn’t think about what it meant, more so the tone in which he said it. The more you thought about it, Killua was scary. 

You were considered a powerful nen user, sure, but by now, Killua had surpassed some of the most powerful nen users of your time. He had taken no rests, as far as you knew--from his report file. 

His strength could be alluded to that of Hisoka when they had gone to the Arena so many years back. Yours could be alluded to that of Kastro. Strong, but Killua would win every time. 

And when he was truly enraged, his power was amplified. His Godspeed was a sight to behold. 

So, when Killua had said “Strike Two,” because you refused to change out of a dirtied shirt, the expression that took hold of him scared the living daylights out of you. 

You tried to avoid him after that. 

Unfortunately, this attempt was futile. 

~~~~

It was nighttime when he gave you his final order. 

“Go to bed.”

“No.”

You were fucking terrified, but you couldn’t sleep yet. There were a few things you wanted to get done before bed and it was only 11:30. 

“Strike Three.”

You had been in the kitchen, but you felt something pull you towards the bedroom. Nen.

You tried pushing against it, but it pushed back. The more you fought the invisible mass, the tighter it gripped you. You were in the bedroom now, and Killua was already sitting on the bed. 

The energy pulled you down onto him, your stomach over his knees. It released most of you, but it still pulled your legs and arms down, rendering you immobile.

You could feel him stop above you. He was about to speak--about to say something soft. You didn’t give him the chance. 

“Don’t.”

He understood what you meant. 

“Do you know why you’re here?”

You remained silent.

You had been wearing a skirt, but you felt as rough hands pulled the fabric away. You were exposed.

“Answer me.”

You still didn’t speak. 

His arm went up and shot down behind you with such force that you were sure you were red--on both ends. 

A small squeal escaped you, but other than this, you were quiet.

“You’re _here_ because you’ve been a bad girl.”

Stillness.

“I gave you three chances, and you still disobeyed me.”

The sharp sound of skin against skin pierced the room. 

“I’m going to hit you three more times, and after every single one, you’re going to thank me. Is that clear?”

You nodded.

“ _Words_ , L/n.”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

The words sent heat straight to your core. 

You felt air against you, and then his hand met your skin again. You cried out, but your pleas fell on deaf ears. 

It was your fault he was this way.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you.”

He grinned above you. 

This time you didn’t feel anything right up until he hit you. He wasn’t holding back. You were strong but it really, really hurt. 

You whimpered in pain as he left. He hit the same spot every time, making the pain worse and worse. It felt hot now, a scalding pain replacing the acute as the feeling set in. 

“Say it.”

“Thank you,” you said, though it was more breathlessly wept than spoken. 

He seemed to feel bad for a moment, but he snapped out of it without your help this time. 

Once again, he slapped you, the searing pain running over your body. 

“Thank you.”

“Good girl.”

The nen around you released, and you backed away from him the moment you could. It was partially a means to taunt him, and partially out of genuine fear. 

Nen enveloped you once again, and pulled you to stand before him. 

“Good girls get rewards.”


End file.
